


nothing matters

by lanaboke



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Angst, Cancer, Car Accidents, Character Death, Death, Depression, Explicit Language, Hospitals, M/M, Schizophrenia, Slow Burn
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-17
Updated: 2021-02-17
Packaged: 2021-03-12 02:41:28
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 11,096
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29502855
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lanaboke/pseuds/lanaboke
Summary: after five years of dating, koutarou least expected his boyfriend to get sick, let alone diagnosed with a brain tumor. but soon, they both realize that things won’t end the way they think they will.
Relationships: Akaashi Keiji/Bokuto Koutarou, Miya Atsumu/Sakusa Kiyoomi
Comments: 2
Kudos: 7





	nothing matters

**Author's Note:**

> i hope you enjoy this story!! :)
> 
> — inspired by rex orange county’s ‘pluto projector’, lyrics are from the song as well

_the great protector — is that_

_what i’m supposed to be?_

koutarou sighs, flopping down on his stomach onto his bed after a long few hours of nonstop working out in his city’s local gym. he was exhausted, so he let out a groan and turned onto his back. he looked up at the alarm clock that sat on his nightstand. in bright red, it read 7:23pm. it was thirty-seven minutes till eight, when his boyfriend would arrive with that nonchalant expression on his face like always, a brown bag in his hands with some fast food logo on the outside, smelling of burgers and fries. 

koutarou lived in a studio apartment where his bed was just less than ten feet from the front door. there was a kitchen with a bar counter and stools, a large tv but no couch (he mainly just used his bed that stood against the opposing wall of where the tv hung. he lived in the city district of ohasuhigashi in higashiosaka, osaka, which was where japan’s volleyball league was based. he lived there since he wanted to keep near his team, along with his friends who lived down the hall — atsumu miya and kiyoomi sakusa. their other friend and soon-to-be teammate, shoyo hinata, was traveling in brazil currently — where he had met up with another setter from miyagi like koutarou and hinata, tooru oikawa. he was labeled as “the great king” but koutarou thought he was greater. he wasn’t a narcissist, neither of them were, but koutarou always thought he was amazing. and he was. right?

the sky was darkening more by each minute that passed, each second even. the stars were scattering across the purplish sky above the world, the sun was just faintly there in the horizon. koutarou sat up, grabbing the tv remote and pressing the red ‘on’ button. the tv buzzes for a moment before it turns all the way on. scrolling through the columns and rows of movies and shows on netflix, koutarou couldn’t find anything that was perfect to watch that night, or at least anything the two had not watched yet, though they’ve watched some several times together, as koutarou liked some movies more than others and always wanted to watch those, which his boyfriend obliged because he didn’t really care for the movie. he just cared for koutarou.

* * *

_what if all this counts for nothing,_

_everything i thought i’d be?_

koutarou was older than his boyfriend by more than a year. his boyfriend was a fourth year now at some miyagi college, meaning it had been five years since the two met, when koutarou was a third year at fukurodani high school. the boy joined the volleyball team, and he grew close with koutarou, becoming the setter to his ace. koutarou, himself, was still a volleyball player, but now he was a player for msby jackals. he hated how much time he had lost with his boyfriend because of the constant traveling.

but recently, he had begged his coach to postpone the next game, which was somewhere in the states. it was getting closer to the day his boyfriend graduated from college, and koutarou wanted to be sure he could be there. it was in just a few weeks from then, and he had to be there for him. he had to be. no matter what.

his boyfriend was much different than he was, though he enjoyed the other’s company and different aspects of life very much. koutarou saw the world as a way to be the best you can be, no matter what, to always be proud and do your greatest. on the other hand, his boyfriend saw the world as a hellish reality. he saw the true pain, the true evil in the world, while koutarou only focused on the good. but that didn’t break them apart, it really just brought them closer.

koutarou loved his boyfriend more than anything in the world. despite their differences. 

speaking of koutarou, to describe who he was exactly, koutarou was a 6’2”, spiky haired guy with sharp yellow eyes, somewhat similar to an owl’s. he had an optimistic philosophy, and he was loud and very outgoing, though he can get hyped up just as quickly as he can get put down. he’s emotional, and sensitive, and cares what others think, but he’s not 5 years old. he’s an adult who is just a bit moody, and that didn’t mean he wants to be babied. he really just wants people to be proud of him, and he compliments everyone, trying to hype them up as well.

koutarou was this sweet fella, everyone enjoyed his presence (mostly). he had a large, room brightening smile that warmed others with just a flash of it in their direction. he had a nice build, strong and beefy. he was usually asked to help carry things around for others, which he was sure to accept the task as he was a nice guy. though, he’s not as dependent on his boyfriend as others might claim. he could take care of himself easily (maybe not the greatest but he’s not a baby) and he enjoyed being alone sometimes. but, that’s the thing.

a long time ago, when koutarou was in middle school, and even early high school, koutarou was pushed away by his teammates. he was seen as weird and too erratic. he didn’t have many friends at this time, just people who either enjoyed his presence or hated it to their cores. his boyfriend was one of the first people to actually enjoy his presence, without really telling him out loud. for their first year together, he spent time with koutarou, tutoring him with math and setting for him in volleyball, up until the older’s graduation.

* * *

_what if by the time i realise_

_it’s too far behind to see?_

there was a knock at the door, koutarou turned and stood up from his bed. he walked over to his front door of the apartment, which wasn’t far from his bed at all, and opened it. his lips curved into a great, big smile. 

“keiji!”

he could hear his voice echo down the hallway. his boyfriend was silent, which isn’t a shock, but he usually greeted his boyfriend with “koutarou!” in the exact same tone, same energy as him, but he didn’t. and that meant something was wrong — and koutarou saw that immediately. koutarou tilted his head at him, “are you alright?” and keiji nodded, and headed inside the apartment, past koutarou. still silent. koutarou bit his bottom lip lightly, closing the front door and locking it. he turned as keiji placed the mcdonald’s bag onto the bar counter.

keiji opens up the bag, pulling out the burgers and the flies, the smell filling the studio apartment almost immediately. even though koutarou was worried about his boyfriend, he couldn’t help that his mouth began to water from the smell. 

keiji akaashi was a fourth year at some miyagi college, just a year younger than koutarou. he had black hair and teal-like eyes, a pretty face and a calm, though sometimes witty, personality. he didn’t have a deadpan personality, although he knows some who do — for example, osamu miya (koutatou’s teammate, atsumu miya’s, twin brother).

keiji is calm and composed most of the time, though he’s not afraid to call out others for foolish things they may do. he especially does that to his boyfriend, koutarou, who he loves the most, despite their greatly, opposing personalities. he can be nice and humble at times, but he’s able to invite himself into conversations and state his own opinions bluntly, which he does often. although he’s still quite analytical, as during games with koutarou, he could easily make split-second decisions on how to save the game from koutarou’s mood swings, whether to set him the ball or not while koutarou was upset. now, since they were no longer on the same team (and since keiji had stopped playing volleyball), keiji used this tactic to talk to koutarou more about certain topics, knowing what things to not say when it came to his lover.

keiji loved koutarou more than anything in the world. he did. he really did. but he was afraid. so, so afraid of telling him the secret he’s been hiding from him so long now, even if it was just a couple months. he was terrified of what might happen. how koutarou would react.

he was worried that koutarou would leave him.

* * *

_70 mil’ projector, i can show_

_you everything, yeah_

koutarou stepped over to the kitchen area of the studio apartment, where keiji stood. he reached up to the top shelf in the cabinet with ease, as he was tall, and grabbed a couple plates. he placed them on the bar counter next to the bag, and keiji hands him his food, and then he grabs his own, placing it on his plate before heading over to the bed area. he usually sat on the floor since he didn’t like eating on beds — he didn’t want to make a mess on his boyfriend’s bed, where he was a guest at (and do not take that the wrong way).

the other walked over and sat next to him on the floor, though normally he’d sit on the bed. keiji turned to him, furrowing his eyebrows in confusion. the older had gotten his usual; a cheeseburger with a large fry while keiji got a ceasar salad that had lots of ranch, plus a small thing of fries, despite the great difference between those two. koutarou takes a bite of his burger, as keiji ate his fries, and koutarou looked at him as he swallowed his bite. 

“keiji,” koutarou starts to say, “what’s going on?” 

the younger looks away.

“nothing,” a lie.

“don’t lie to me, akaashi,” he spoke sternly, catching keiji off guard, “tell me.”

keiji sighed, lowering his head, staring down at his plate that sat in his lap. his hands latched around his knees. his breath shuddered, and koutarou raised an eyebrow at him.

the black haired boy thinned his lips. 

“do you remember when i stayed home from school that one day? a couple months ago?”

koutarou nods his head, “yeah. you told me to stay at school and let you rest.” that may sound mean, and even a bit suspicious, but it wasn’t supposed to sound like that, at all.

keiji sighs once again, “that day, i went to the doctor . . . right?” koutarou nods again.

 _this is going to be so hard to say to him_ , keiji thought inside his head.

* * *

_and we’re on our way to glory_

_where the show will never end_

“what are you trying to tell me?”

keiji felt his heart burn inside him. this was going to hurt koutarou so much, so much more than it’s been hurting keiji since he first found out. he felt his stomach twist and turn. he hated this. he hated that he had to do this. so fucking much.

“i . . .”

koutarou stared at him with those yellow eyes of his. his pupils were dancing back and forth, tears were welling up in his tear ducts. he was getting scared now, more than before. anything that keiji might say — it could ruin them, or even worse, lead to an unexpected demise. koutarou could feel his heart sinking to his stomach, making him feel almost nauseous. 

his skin was crawling, goosebumps covered his arms. the hair on the back of his neck stood up, his eyebrows raising, despite their weird shape already. koutarou was scared.

and he was right to be scared.

“i was diagnosed with a brain tumor.”

koutarou’s heart shattered like a glass to the floor.

* * *

_and the encore lasts forever and_

_it’s time we’re due to spend_

koutarou shook his head in disbelief, “t-tell me y-you’re kidding.” 

keiji reached his hand over, but koutarou scooted back. keiji frowned, “bokuto—”

“no, don’t!” he exclaimed to his boyfriend, “y-you . . . how . . . why . . .” he was at a loss of words, he didn’t know how to respond to this sudden, terrible news about his boyfriend. 

“koutarou—” keiji reached his hand out to koutarou, but he smacked his hand away. in a quick motion, koutarou throws his plate somewhere in the apartment. keiji flinches, but koutarou doesn’t notice. “k-koutarou,” keiji spoke quietly, and then he went to reach his hand out again, despite koutarou smacking it away just moments before.

the older’s shoulders shuddered.

“i don’t want to lose you,” koutarou said to his boyfriend, “keiji, please tell me you’re having surgery.” but that was the thing — keiji hadn’t planned on having surgery to remove the cancer. he just wanted to let it happen, pass away peacefully at home, in the arms of his lover. 

keiji took his hands, feeling them calm from their shaking. just his touch could calm koutarou. keiji knew that. keiji gently hushed him, making the sounds of ocean waves with his mouth, trying to calm koutarou down.

“i know,” said keiji suddenly, “i know you don’t want me to go, and t-trust me, i don’t w-want to go either, b-but y-you have to s-stay strong s-so i can b-be s-strong, t-too.”

* * *

_spending the years together,_

_growing older everyday_

“you’ve gotta be kidding me,”

“i’m not, i’m really not.”

koutarou pulled keiji by his hand, dragging him up the hill. a bright smile on the older’s face as the two make it to the top of the hill. it was dark already, the sky was covered in stars. this was maybe a week before the present, when keiji began to really worry about telling koutarou about his diagnosis. he knew it would hurt his lover, but he worried if his lover would become so hurt that he’d leave. 

from the start, keiji was closed off when it came to his personal life. koutarou knew that, and he respected his boyfriend for that, even when they were just friends back when keiji was just a first year at fukurodani high school, where he is now a third year at now. as well as keiji knew koutarou, the other knew him just as well. koutarou was in love with keiji — he was his whole world and more. 

laying there with him, keiji turned to koutarou for a moment before looking back up at the starry sky.

“i went to fukurodani because of you.”

the older turned to the younger with a raised eyebrow, a curious expression. “huh?”

keiji let out a sigh, “you were the reason i went to fukurodani in the first place.” he repeated with different wording. “when i first saw you, it was the day i was deciding to go to another school— another school i had a scholarship for. fukurodani was good, but the other school was better. i had such a good chance to be so successful in my future if i went there. but i didn’t,” he sighed again, and his lips curved gently into a smile, “because that’s when i saw you.” koutarou stayed quiet. quite a surprise to keiji. he hoped the older remembered that day, since it had been so long.

keiji knew that day like the back of his hand. though, he hoped koutarou did, too.

it was a sunny morning, surprisingly. it was early, and keiji was on a tour of the school, like the rest of his class, but it was a normal day for koutarou, who was actually heading to the gymnasium that morning for early practice before first period. his hair was slightly deflated, it hung to the sides as he seemed gloomy that morning. his teammates walked ahead of him, as if trying to leave him behind. they didn’t like him. and they didn’t have enough sympathy to feel bad for him. 

the younger passed by the front of the school, keeping up with the rest of the students with ease as he was good at pacing himself and walking fast without becoming winded like most people he knew, some of which were in his class. he glanced around, not really paying anything to the tour, though it could be very important for him later.

“akaashi-san,” 

akinori konoha, who stood beside keiji, was a former upperclassmen of keiji, a close friend to him as well. they had met when keiji was a second year at the middle school while akinori was a third year at the time. now, akinori was a first year at the current school keiji was on a tour at. fukurodani high school. 

keiji turned to him, “oh, konoha-kun,” he slightly bowed to him as a greeting, “it’s nice to see you.” 

akinori nodded, “are you planning to come here?”

“not sure,” said keiji with a short shrug, “it’s certainly an . . . idea.”

keiji didn’t want to bluntly say the red flags that flew in the wind every time keiji even looked at the school. it wasn’t a bad school, but it wasn’t up to keiji’s standards, though they were lowered from his last school and the school before that. he just needed a better school for a better, more successful future.

akinori clicks his tongue, “well, i hope you figure out what to do soon. school will be starting in just a couple months, akaashi,” he nudges the younger male, “hope to see you here next year.” akinori then heads off into the building, leaving keiji alone with the rest of the students who he was touring the school with. 

the tour guide was getting annoying, and the other students were bland and quiet. everything was just dragging keiji down, causing him to feel exhausted and worn down. keiji hated it, he hated feeling worn down but it didn’t bother him as much as it usually did now. 

keiji turns to look in the far distance, catching the eyes of an older male with silver and black hair that seemed to be deflated at this moment in time. his strong build was tight underneath his — what seemed to be a volleyball — uniform that was the colors of black and white with some yellow on the numbers and the words. his face was handsome, attractive, but that wasn’t the only thing that caught his eye. it was his aura — his peaceful, love-filled aura. 

just looking at him — it made keiji feel warm. his heart was beating faster, right out of his chest. the wind was blowing, his hair going with it, and he watched the guy’s hair suddenly inflate, spiking up from the wind pushing it up as it blew by with ease. it was whistling, but keiji couldn’t even acknowledge it at all. he was too busy becoming interested in the spiky haired boy. because he was soon to become the reason why keiji went to fukurodani.

“how come you want to come here?” asks the principal a couple days later, “it says here you have a scholarship for one of the finest schools here in miyagi prefecture. how come you’re choosing this school?” he sounded like he didn’t like his own school — which he didn’t. no one did.

keiji sat there with his hands in his laps firmly, his feet straight on the floor of the office where he sat across from the principal who sat behind his desk. 

“not sure,” keiji replied shortly, “i just had a feeling about this place.”

but really, he had a feeling about that boy.

a feeling he couldn’t escape, and he didn’t want to either. 

“you were the reason i went to fukurodani in the first place,” keiji repeated to koutarou that night underneath the stars, “that day, i fell for you, and when school started officially, i tried so hard to close to you in the only way i could — volleyball. i didn’t like volleyball much in the beginning,” he was starting to ramble, “but you taught me to love it. you taught me how to feel happy. you taught me how to smile with meaning. you taught me . . . how to love,”

koutarou gasped quietly, his eyes widening slightly.

“and i’m glad that i was finally able to tell you.”

* * *

_i feel at home when i’m around_

_you and i’ll gladly say again_

“but i don’t want you to leave me, keiji.” 

the present. both sat against the side of the bed on the floor. koutarou’s plate sat next to him on the floor, while keiji’s sat on his lap, but now he took it and placed it beside him as well.

there was silence growing between the two now. the light from the tv reflected onto them, giving them enough light to see themselves, their surroundings, and even the smallest details in that dim studio apartment that belonged to bokuto koutarou. 

“it doesn’t matter,” keiji said, “nothing will matter once i’m gone.”

koutarou takes his plate and throws it across the room, making keiji jump.

“don’t you get it?!” koutarou grabbed onto his boyfriend’s shirt suddenly, pulling him closer forcefully, catching the younger off guard completely. “you’re my boyfriend! m-my soulmate!” koutarou was trying to keep in his sobs, though keiji could clearly hear them croaking in the back of koutarou’s throat as he spoke, “you’re the love of my life, keiji.”

he wasn’t wrong. keiji meant anything and everything to koutarou, more than what he shows, even though he shows his love for keiji more than he needs to. he was his home, his love, his heaven, even sometimes his hell, but it didn’t matter. nothing mattered as much as keiji’s life. nothing would ever matter more than keiji’s life. not to koutarou. not to anyone.

keiji’s eyes shifted from left to right. he creased his eyebrows.

“b-bokuto-san—”

“i’m not going to let you die on me,” koutarou cut keiji off, “do you hear me? — you’re not going to die on me anytime soon, akaashi keiji. i don’t care if i’m being selfish. as long as it keeps you from dying and leaving me behind,” he spoke with pure honesty, “then i’m happy.”

* * *

_i hope the encore lasts_ _forever,_

_now there’s time for us to spend_

“bokuto-san, i’m fine.”

koutarou rubs his boyfriend’s head gently, like he always would, but now it felt different. it had now been a couple weeks since keiji’s confession about his cancer diagnosis, just a bit more than a week until keiji’s college graduation, and now it had been two days since keiji had his hair shaved off on his head. it was early in the morning now, so he hadn’t put his scarf around his head yet. 

“sorry,” said koutarou, “i keep forgetting.” he was referring to how he wasn’t used to the fact that keiji was now hairless on his head. it was mainly for precaution, and since keiji was already losing hair more and more everyday — it was just easier to shave it all off.

about a week prior, keiji had moved in with koutarou, doing online school for the time being as he’s become a bit too weak to travel so much throughout the school building five days a week. since keiji told koutarou about the tumor, the older hadn’t left keiji’s side, if at all. he’d buy his groceries online and have a taxi pick them up and bring them up to his apartment which was on the eighth floor of a ten floor high apartment building. (helping, of course). keiji’s parents weren’t really there for keiji, though they haven’t been there much at all for him in his entire life.

for more than twenty-two years, keiji’s parents were almost neglectful of him to the point it was abusive and wrong. they didn’t care about his morals or self-esteem or even his happiness. they couldn’t care less. and keiji couldn’t care more. he wished his parents were at least thoughtful of him, and what he was going through now, but maybe it was because he hadn’t told them. so really, keiji couldn’t be mad that they weren't there for him since they didn’t know about the tumor.

keiji gave koutarou a gentle smile. 

“stop worrying,” he told him, “it’s fine. i like it.” 

koutarou grins, and he walks over to the fridge, pulling the door open and grabbing the jar of pickles — god, he loved pickles. keiji didn’t have much of an opinion on them, except that koutarou loved them. 

keiji raised his eyebrow, “it’s 7am, dear,” said keiji with a laugh, “why are you — you eating pickles?” his throat was drier than usual, so he stood up, and began to walk over to the fridge.

koutarou catches him from the corner of his eye and practically runs to him. he stops him, grabbing onto his lover’s waist, and shook his head quickly, “no, no, no,” he says, “go sit down.”

the younger furrowed his eyebrows at him, “bokuto-san—”

“no excuses,” koutarou stated, “what did you want to get? i’ll get it for you,”

“a glass of water—”

“on it!” 

keiji is then sat down on the bed by his boyfriend who then quickly walks over to the kitchen area, opening a cabinet and taking out a glass cup. he steps over to in front of the sink, turning one of the knobs to fill the cup with water from the faucet. he takes the cup and turns the faucet off, walking over to keiji and handing him the glass. “here,” he whispered quietly to him.

the younger takes it from his boyfriend gently, raising it so he could sip on the water to wet his scorching throat. and don’t take that the wrong way. 

koutarou glances at him but heads back to the kitchen where he opened the dishwasher and began to put away the now clean dishes from last night’s dinner and deserts. keiji turned to look at his boyfriend, furrowing his eyebrows at him. koutarou never put away the dishes. for the last five years, that was keiji’s job, even when keiji didn’t even live there or sometimes on days where keiji didn’t even stay over the night before. he would always come over and see koutarou.

it didn’t matter if he had school the next day, he’d be there. if he had a huge exam the next day, he’d stay up studying with koutarou so he’d pass it with flying colors. if he had a lot of things to do the next day, he’d stay at koutarou’s and sleep in his arms so he’d get plenty of rest.

being with koutarou made him feel at home. better than he had ever felt at his own home with his parents. he was glad he had moved out of there, because now — he was truly home.

“you okay?”

keiji perked his head up slightly, realizing now that koutarou was staring at him with a confused expression. he figured he must’ve got lost in his train of thought. keiji gulps.

“you’re putting the dishes away,”

koutarou raises one of his eyebrows.

“and i, i usually do that for you,” keiji said, “but you’re doing it.”

without hesitation, koutarou spoke without any emotion in his voice at all.

“i have to learn to do things on my own in case you end up leaving me behind.”

* * *

_and it’s sublime with you, my friend_

keiji sat against the bed on the floor, leaning his head back against it. his scarl moved a bit as it was wrapped around his hairless head. it was now evening, later that day, and koutarou had left and went to practice volleyball with atsumu and kiyoomi. today was the first time keiji didn’t go to koutarou’s volleyball practice, ever since keiji first joined the volleyball team. 

five years ago.

the two were beginning to separate subtly. keiji could feel the distance between them grow more and more. was it the tumor doing this? was a brain tumor really at fault for this? or has this relationship finally run its course? keiji was starting to overthink, and he was worried that soon, he’ll lose koutarou. ironic, right?

things were changing — keiji knew that. he had a deep, inner feeling that koutarou was distancing himself for a reason. maybe koutarou was planning to leave him. maybe he was just trying to cope with the diagnosis. he wasn’t sure. all this thinking made him feel nauseous. 

he took out his phone, unlocking it and tapping onto the imessage icon. he taps on koutarou’s contact, and begins to type a message to send to his boyfriend who was practicing with his friends/teammates.

* * *

_this right here, still feels like a honeymoon_

“tsum-tsum, could you set for me?”

atsumu miya, a teammate to koutarou, nods his head with a smile. “sure thing, pal.” his kansai dialect was clear as day, but koutarou honestly liked it. he liked hearing the way atsumu would pronounce some things, like ‘your’ to ‘yer’ and other things like that. atsumu miya, a former setter at inarizaki high school in hyogo prefecture. atsumu was a cocky, confident kind of person. he’s a fourth year, like keiji, and he’s already on the japanese volleyball league with koutarou and kiyoomi (well, koutarou had to beg the coach to let them join since they’re in college). 

everyone either loves him or thinks he’s just straight up annoying. luckily for his boyfriend, sakusa kiyoomi, he’s both in love with atsumu and thinks he’s an annoying piece of shit, as he claims. kiyoomi is this calm, very collected person, and is also a fourth year like his boyfriend. he has a strong build like koutarou, but his personality reminded him of keiji’s a lot. 

atsumu sets the ball into the air, “bokuto-san!” he calls out to the older.

koutarou jumps up and spikes the ball over the net with ease. he lands back onto the gym floor and cheers. “hey hey hey!” he exclaims with a huge smile, his fists punch the air. he turns to atsumu, “that was a good set, tsum-tsum.”

atsumu scoffed, “well, i try.”

kiyoomi turns over to him, “maybe you should try harder.”

atsumu turned to his boyfriend with a growl, “why do you always have to insult me?”

“because everyone thinks you’re great and no one insults you.”

“you— my brother insults me enough!” 

“well, i’ve replaced him in his job to insult you.”

“yer’re my boyfriend, sakusa.”

“okay? and? that’s not going to stop me.”

koutarou just laughs. he loved the bickering between atsumu and kiyoomi. he found it cute, especially because they got along so well together. it was rare that they would fight — very rare, because atsumu would always apologize and kiyoomi would always make atsumu feel better. it never really mattered who did what, because the only thing that mattered was that they . . .

that they had each other.

after a bit, koutarou heads over to the metal bench on the outside of the gymnasium court. his gym bag sat underneath the bench so anyone could sit down on the bench if they’d like to. he picks it up and places it on the bench, unzipping it so he could take his phone. he sits down on the bench next to his bag. he looks through his notifications, finding two missed calls, two voicemails, and one text message from keiji. 

| **人生最愛の人** [6:21pm] — (love of my life)

私の家になってくれてありがとう

(thank you for becoming my home)

it was a simple message, and it didn’t worry koutarou. sometimes, keiji would text him these types of messages when he’s feeling sad or even grateful at times, so koutarou just felt glad for making keiji happy. the first voicemail was nothing but keiji just talking about how much koutarou meant to him. it made koutarou feel all warm and fuzzy inside. but what really frightened him the most was the second voicemail, and its last words. 

_“i hope you don’t break your promise.”_

* * *

_when you say my name_

“keiji? are you here?”

koutarou flipped the lights on, only to find keiji sitting on the bed, his knees to his chest as he cried. it was a couple days after keiji had officially moved in, a few days prior to the present. 

“k-keiji!” koutarou practically ran to keiji’s side, getting onto the bed in a quick motion. he placed his hands on his boyfriend’s face. “w-what’s w-wrong? why are y-you c-crying?”

koutarou was shaking more than keiji was, and he was the one crying — though, when keiji cries (which is very rare), koutarou starts to cry, too, and it’s usually much worse than keiji. koutarou cares so much about keiji, to the point that every time he sees his lover cry, koutarou can’t help himself but cry with him. 

keiji shudders, sniffling. 

“i-i don’t want t-to l-leave y-you, b-bokuto.”

koutarou shushed him, even though tears also streamed down his face just like his boyfriend, “you’re not going to leave me, love,” he spoke with confidence, but his voice was quiet, like he only wanted keiji to hear his words, even if no one else was around. 

“but i-if i do,”

“which you won’t,”

“but if i do,” keiji said sternly, then he let out a sigh, “you have to promise me that you’ll move on,” chills went down his back, causing him to shake, “move on and meet another.”

koutarou’s eyes began to dance, “you have to be joking.”

keiji lowered his head in silence.

“keiji,” koutarou scoffed, “tell me you’re joking.”

the younger stayed quiet, his lips thinned against each other in a straight line.

that’s when koutarou shuddered.

“k-keiji,” he gulped, “s-so you w-want me t-to move o-on if y-you — i-if y-you — i-i y-you—” he couldn’t get the words out without becoming a total, stuttering mess. he mentally facepalmed at his embarrassing stuttering. but keiji took his hands and held them close to his chest.

with a slow motion, keiji raises one of koutarou’s hands and places it on his cheek, leaning into the palm of his lover’s hand as his own hand holds koutarou’s hand against his cheek, keeping it still against his smooth skin. 

“i love you with all my heart,” keiji spoke quietly like koutarou did before, “but please. promise me you’ll move on and find another.”

he couldn’t say no. he couldn’t. he’d disappoint keiji — that’s the worst thing he could ever do. he had to promise. he had to. even if it meant moving on and forgetting keiji if he dies. he had to.

“okay.”

* * *

_nothing’s changed — i’m still_

_a boy inside my thoughts_

koutarou runs to the door quickly, the keys fumbling in his hands. he manages to finally unlock it, and he opens it quickly, slamming it open, surely leaving a hole in the wall from how hard the doorknob had hit the wall. the studio apartment was dark, almost completely pitch black. koutarou could feel his heart beating right out of his chest.

“keiji!” he called out, turning the light switch on, looking around the apartment for him, “keiji! where are you?!” he began to cry out, worried sick about his partner. where had he gone? oh so, suddenly as well? koutarou felt sick to his stomach. 

what if keiji was taken? kidnapped? what if he ran away? what if he . . . _gave up_?

koutarou looked under the bed, onto the balcony, and even in the cupboards in the bathroom. thoughts were running through his head like crazy — it was like a nascar race. all the cars were his thoughts about keiji and what may have happened to him, and they’re all racing around on this oval-shaped track, and the race — it seemed to never end. similar to the love koutarou had for keiji. he was worried now that maybe — keiji didn’t feel the same anymore.

* * *

_am i meant to understand_

_my faults? — i don’t think so_

“i’m sure you’re just overreacting—”

“overreacting?!” koutarou shouted at atsumu with a scoff, “you think i’m overreacting?!”

atsumu was startled by his friend’s sudden outburst, so he took a step back, his hands out almost defensively — like he was afraid koutarou was going to hit him. kiyoomi, previously sitting against the back of his seat, looking through any tracking ideas so they could track down the cancerous boy, was now sitting on the edge of his seat, almost standing up once he saw koutarou raise his hand with anger pouring out of his fists.

“my boyfriend — who, i might add, has a brain tumor the size of a golf ball in his brain — has literally gone missing, atsumu.” koutarou stated sternly at his friend, “you don’t get to say i’m overreacting, pal.” he was starting to become rude, but atsumu knew he couldn’t take it personally. koutarou was extremely vulnerable right now, all his emotions were strung out on his sleeve, just like how his heart had always been. he was like a coca cola bottle just seconds after you put the mentos in it. he was beginning to blow, his emotions were exploding.

he was panicking, but then again — who wouldn’t be in this situation?

keiji had left without barely any warning. koutarou was possibly on the verge of having a heart attack from all his hyperventilating and panicking. atsumu was beginning to worry more and more each second he continued to watch koutarou pace back and forth. kiyoomi continued to search how he could track keiji. but time was running out. 

it was running out way too fast.

* * *

_i don’t think i’m meant_

_to understand myself_

keiji lied there on his hospital bed, already dressed in a hospital gown for the surgery that would be soon to be started once the surgeons were ready to go. he was getting the tumor removed, without koutarou. he wanted to get the tumor removed so he could make sure he’d stay with koutarou for the rest of their lives, but then again, the surgery was high-risk. it didn’t have a good survival rate, and yet — keiji was doing this. 

iv’s were hooked up to him, wires and wires. his heart monitor beeps continuously in a rhythm. it was annoying, sure, but it didn’t bother keiji much. he just distracted himself with some crossword puzzle in some magazine that was left in his hospital room. 

it was lonely there, but he did that to himself. he pushed koutarou away and disappeared on him, as he lay there, thinking about it, he felt like shit for what he did. now he just missed koutarou.

he missed his smile, his bright yellow eyes, his spiky hair that was the color of a dark stormy cloud, his weird-shaped eyebrows, his beefy build, his prideful personality. he loved him so much, and he felt so bad for doing this to koutarou — the love of his life.

he knew soon he’d be in surgery, and then he’d be okay. he’d be able to live his life with koutarou, grow old with him. it didn’t matter if they were young and wild or old and wrinkly — he wanted to be with koutarou.

but he knew there was a huge chance he wouldn’t survive, which is why he already told koutarou goodbye, even if it was in a voicemail. 

by this time tomorrow, keiji could be dead on a gurney, heading to the morgue where doctors would try to find how he died and then send him off to a funeral home for the funeral where his parents would pretend to cry then forget about it an hour later. 

“mr. akaashi,” a nurse entered the room, “it’s time.” 

keiji gave her a gentle nod before a couple other nurses entered the room as well, fixing up the hospital bed for travel and began to roll the bed out of the room and to the operating room.

keiji lied there, facing the ceiling. his breathing was slowing a bit, but he felt fine. the nurse came back over to him and leaned forward, “count back to ten for me, mr. akaashi.” she placed the anesthesia mask over his mouth and nose.

keiji gulped.

“ten, nine, eight, s-seven, six, f-five . . .”

and he was out.

* * *

_maybe you do and that’s good for you_

koutarou had finally stopped pacing back and forth, but he still panicked as he stood in front of the tv in kiyoomi and atsumu’s shared studio apartment, just down the hall from koutarou’s. atsumu sat on the couch as kiyoomi cooked dinner — it was something koutarou had never had before, one of kiyoomi’s family recipes — in the kitchen area. 

their studio apartment was much bigger than koutarou’s. a bigger bathroom, bigger kitchen, more room in general, as they were able to add a whole four seat dining table in, too. the kitchen was in the far right corner from the front door, which was in the close left corner of the studio apartment. the bed was across from the kitchen area, and on the other side was the living room-like area. in the far left corner, across from the front door, was the dining table and just a couple feet away was the huge bathroom of theirs.

it was a luxury studio apartment apparently.

it wasn’t a shock though, that kiyoomi had bought such a luxurious apartment for just him and atsumu. they had been together since they were both second years, very early into the year as well. the two were very good together. koutarou was even a bit jealous of them.

kiyoomi sooned finished cooking dinner, and he called the other two to the table. koutarou took a seat at the dining table, across from atsumu who sat next to kiyoomi now. the seat next to koutarou, it was empty, as it belonged to keiji.

the three begin to eat, it’s silent between them. koutarou was almost done with his first serving by the time atsumu began to speak.

“what did you promise keiji?”

koutarou perked his head up, but slowly. he was hesitating, feeling his heart drop to his stomach.

“you mentioned you promised keiji something,” atsumu spoke again, “in one of your rambles earlier.”

right. when he was panicking earlier. 

koutarou swallowed another bite. 

“i p-promised him that if he d-died, i-i’d . . .” it was suddenly hard for him to speak, “that i-i would m-move on a-and f-find a-another.” he stuttered. he stared down at his almost cleared off plate, but he could feel the stares from atsumu and kiyoomi. 

it wasn’t a promise koutarou didn’t want to fulfill. but he made the promise, so now he can’t back out. 

“oh,”

_that’s it?_

well, it was atsumu. he wasn’t exactly the comforting type of person, especially not in this type of situation. kiyoomi was, just not atsumu.

“koutarou,”

koutarou hummed, raising his eyebrows slightly in response as he took another bite from his dinner. it was really good, even if he had never had it before tonight.

“koutarou,”

koutarou hummed again.

“koutarou!”

koutarou choked on his food, coughing a bit as he looked up at kiyoomi who was calling his name.

“what? what?!” koutarou exclaimed, still coughing.

“look!” kiyoomi showed him his phone, “i found keiji!” and koutarou’s heart stopped beating for a moment. he found keiji. he was okay. keiji was okay.

koutarou’s eyes skimmed the phone screen, looking quickly to find a destination.

“miyagi hospital! that’s where he is!” koutarou exclaimed, laughing and cheering that he finally knew where his boyfriend was, then his laughter died down, “he’s . . . at a hospital . . .” the realization sunk in now. 

koutarou’s body felt weak. was keiji hurt? was he dead already? he was so scared suddenly. he was beginning to panic again.

koutarou then stood up from the table and practically ran to the door, but atsumu caught onto his arm and gripped it, causing koutarou to stop.

“atsumu, let go,” koutarou never called atsumu by his actual name. he always called him ‘tsum-tsum.’ 

koutarou had a feeling that atsumu was going to stop him from going to see keiji and make sure he was okay. but then atsumu sighed.

“just don’t do anything ruthless, koutarou.”

atsumu lets go of koutarou then, and with a short grin and a nod, koutarou leaves the apartment and heads to the hospital to see keiji. 

* * *

_maybe in time, maybe one day_

he thought he would dream of something different while he was under anesthesia during the surgery. instead, he was dreaming of, or remembering, the first fight he had with koutarou. 

it was about koutarou’s schedule after he graduated and joined the jackals — a year, maybe two years, after the two had first began to date.

that fight, he could never forget it. it was the first time koutarou had ever shown true anger with keiji, and that scared him. badly. koutarou was a gentle person, despite his normal erratic personality that everyone either found annoying or endearing. 

but soon after, koutarou was the first to apologize. he felt terrible for the way he acted, and even treated keiji. of course, keiji was quick to accept the apology, not just because he loved him, but also because he was afraid that it might happen again.

* * *

_i’ll do the same_

the sky was dark, the time was 7:21pm. koutarou was in his car, driving to the hospital. he was worried a bit that he might be lost and going the wrong way, but that didn’t matter. as long as he made his way through the city of miyagi prefecture, on the way to the hospital where apparently keiji was.

he didn’t know if the younger was hurt or on the verge of dying or even completely fine — he just had to make it there to the hospital to see him. if he didn’t, he knew he’d blame himself for it for years to come. 

keiji was his lover, his boyfriend, his soulmate. they were soulmates. they were meant to be together.

keiji was koutarou’s pearl, koutarou was keiji’s rock. keiji was koutarou’s motivation, koutarou was keiji’s muse. keiji was koutarou’s anchor, koutarou was keiji’s wings. 

out of his entire lifetime so far, koutarou had loved so many. his family, his friends, even strangers. but keiji — he was the only one he loved that burned into his soul forever. 

his voice, his smile, his habits — everything about keiji made koutarou fall even more for the younger. koutarou was so hooked onto keiji that he knew he couldn’t possibly move on if he passed away.

he couldn’t possibly forget his one, true love.

* * *

_i’ll do the same_

koutarou honked his car horn, “come on!” he shouts, becoming frustrated from the slow traffic he was now stuck in. he could be losing time with keiji, and that terrified him. he was scared to lose keiji. he loved keiji more than his own self, so, in a sense, losing keiji made him feel like he was losing himself.

but soon enough, the traffic began to move and the streets cleared up. koutarou let out a sigh of relief before he pressed down on his gas pedal, continuing to drive to the hospital where keiji was. 

* * *

_i’ll do the same_

“keiji — don’t you think i’m smart?”

this was about a week prior to the present. the two were hanging out at home, watching some movie together on the bed as they cuddled.

the younger stared at him, blinking at him a couple times. koutarou furrowed his eyebrows at him.

“why are you so quiet?”

keiji began to laugh, especially from koutarou’s confused, yet pitiful, facial expression. his laughter soon died down, but he continued to giggle, covering his mouth lightly with his hand. 

“am i not smart?” koutarou pushed out his bottom lip, but keiji raised his hand and tapped his boyfriend’s forehead, making him jump back with surprise. 

keiji grins, “you are smart,” he told koutarou, “but you choose not to use that intelligence, most of the time.” 

koutarou huffed.

“thanks . . .”

“don’t get pouty,” 

koutarou’s jaw dropped, “i’m not!?” he gets defensive, but that just made keiji think he was just becoming more pouty. 

keiji giggled, and he pecked koutarou’s cheek.

“you’re cute.” and koutarou rolled his eyes, his cheeks turning a light pink. 

then, koutarou kissed keiji gently, holding his hand against the youngest cheek, and he pulled back, “i love you, keiji.”

keiji leaned up slightly and pecked koutarou’s nose, meeting eyes with koutarou and he smiles.

“i love you more.”

* * *

_i’l do the same_

koutarou pressed his foot harder onto the gas pedal, the car’s speed growing higher and higher on the freeway to the hospital. he was just 5 minutes away from arriving. he was so close. he had to get there soon. he had to get there _now_. 

adrenaline was rushing through his veins, the car engine was roaring. he was sure the police would try to stop him and make him pull over, but koutarou couldn’t let that happen. he couldn’t stop. he couldn’t.

in a matter of seconds, everything began to slow down as another car had collided into the side of koutarou’s car. the car flipped over after it was pushed by the collision, the airbags had gone off by now.

koutarou, as the world began to slow down around him, watched as he was floating in the air behind his seatbelt, the glass of the windows breaking, even some cut koutarou’s skin a bit. 

by the end of it, the car was upside down, and koutarou was crushed inside it, hanging from his seat. 

maybe, it wouldn’t be keiji who’d be the one to die.

* * *

_i’ll do the same as you, i’ll try and hold it up_

slowly, keiji opened his eyes. he squinted his eyes almost immediately, the ceiling lights were bright and blinded him. he grunted, raising his hand to block the light from his eyes. his head hurt a bit, but other than that, he knew he was alive.

he survived the surgery.

but was the tumor all gone? he didn’t know yet. all he really knew was that he was alive and that he had said goodbye to koutarou for no reason. he was sure that he had caused koutarou probably three heart attacks by now. 

the hospital room was empty. it was only him. 

without even knowing, it was only him now.

* * *

_soon i hope or as soon as i’m old enough_

a couple hours passed, a couple nurses had came and went throughout. keiji sat there on the bed, doing some crossword puzzles. he looked at the clock, and it was now almost noon the next day. he missed koutarou, he wanted him there with him.

a doctor soon came into the room. it was the doctor, named doctor sato, who had been caring for keiji since before his tumor diagnosis. so he knew both him and koutarou.

“i’m sorry i took so long to come by and see you,” said the doctor with a huff, “i had back to back surgeries after your surgery.”

keiji nodded, “i understand, doctor.” 

the doctor cleared his throat, flipping through keiji’s hospital chart that he held in his hands. he smiled, and looked back at keiji. 

“i have good news for you though,” 

keiji raised one of his eyebrows in interest.

“we were able to remove all of the tumor during the surgery,” the doctor informed him with a gleeful tone, “so keiji — you are now tumor-free.” his smile was bright and big on his face.

keiji smiled, but it was small and shy-like.

he bowed to him slightly, or as much as he could sitting there, “thank you so much, sir.”

the doctor nodded, and he turned to leave, but then he stopped once he looked through the hospital room’s window. keiji caught it, and he looked through the hospital window, and his heart sank to his stomach.

* * *

_old enough to understand_

“no . . . no . . .”

keiji shook his head slowly, and he grabbed onto his iv pole, standing up from the hospital bed. his pupils were dancing in the pool of white in his eyes. he limped, but he tried to run out of the room, and the doctor didn’t even stop him. the nurses didn’t either, but they all watched as keiji ran.

he was chasing a couple nurses who were pushing a gurney with a deceased body on it, taking them to the morgue in the hospital. 

“stop . . .” keiji was breathless, he couldn’t shout at them to stop. one of the nurses catches keiji from the corner of her eye, and so she stops, and so does the other nurse. 

keiji catches up to them, and he approaches the gurney. this was just like a story he had read, and he hated the fact that this was really happening to him. he stands next to the gurney, and he sniffles roughly.

he couldn’t believe his eyes.

* * *

_old enough to understand_

keiji’s breath hitched, his shoulders shuddered. his heartbeat was slowing, as he stared at the body. his hair was the same as it was the last time keiji had seen him in person, before he disappeared. 

as much as he regretted doing that, he regretted the fact that he may have caused this to happen to the boy he cared so, so much about. 

there he lied on that white, hospital gurney — the lifeless body of bokuto koutarou, age 23, a setter for the msby volleyball team of japan. 

tears streamed down keiji’s face, but nothing broke his heart more than the fact koutarou wasn’t crying along with him. his eyes were closed, his skin was pale, his shirt was torn and stained with blood. a cut on his throat from a cryke — they couldn’t intubate him, maybe his airway had swell up, so they had to cryke him. his skin was stained like his clothes. his arms were covered in cuts from the glass, but so was his face, and just staring at him, observing his injuries, it only made keiji want to fall to his knees and scream.

“you weren’t supposed to be the one to leave, bokuto-san,” keiji whispered to his dead lover. 

the doctors and the nurses watched and listened in, feeling bad for the boy terribly. he had just lost his boyfriend — his soulmate — of five years. he couldn’t function, he couldn’t even breathe right.

“you made me promise that i wouldn’t leave you, bokuto-san, s-so why did y-you l-leave i-instead?”

he began to sob uncontrollably now, and he looked up, leaning his head back as he cried out, whimpering and sobbing as rivers streamed down his face, all as his hands held his lover’s lifeless hand.

* * *

_stay forever, you know_

_more than anyone, yeah_

the two nurses take the gurney to the morgue, parking it in the middle of the room, and keiji followed closely behind. keiji stood next to the gurney at the nurses exited the room. the door stayed open though, but keiji didn’t care, not one bit.

hesitating, keiji raises one leg and gets onto the bed next to the lifeless body of his loving boyfriend. he slowly lowers himself onto his side, laying his head onto his dead boyfriend’s chest. his hand clutches the blood stained shirt on koutarou’s chest, but keiji’s tears were now staining it, too. 

his breathing had gone back to normal, but his mental state was worsening more each time he thought about how his soulmate had left him too soon. similar to how he thought he was going to die himself, but now, it was the other way around.

laying there in that dim room, the only light coming from the cracked open door, keiji continued to cry as his head lay on koutarou’s limp body.

“how could you?” keiji whispered, but there was no reply. there was no one there anymore. it was just him now.

* * *

_whoa, and it’s you that knows my darkness_

the funeral was quiet. like any other funeral. koutarou’s family had left early, before the official burial, as they didn’t really want to face keiji right now. the demeanor on keiji’s face was all they needed to know that he wasn’t okay. but that was a given, as he had just lost the love of his life, his home (figuratively), the man he wanted to grow old with. 

atsumu and kiyoomi stayed with keiji for a little bit, but then headed back to their car as it began to rain, though they stayed as they had came along with keiji — who was still standing at the grave, watching as the grave keepers buried his lover in the pouring rain.

keiji stood there, his hands in the pockets of his black trench coat. the rain had soaked his scarf that was wrapped around his head and parts of his clothes, but he didn’t care. 

nothing mattered anymore.

why would _anything_ matter anymore?

the grave keepers began to cover the casket with dirt, but keiji stared at the tombstone. it was surrounded by bouquets of flowers and photos and candles that were now put out from the rain. 

keiji sighed, lowering his shoulders.

he wanted to give up so bad.

suddenly, the rain stopped pouring onto him, and a new circular shadow was now appearing on the ground beneath him. a slight gasp leaves his lips, and he turns around with a raised eyebrow, but only found two faces that he really didn’t want to see then.

keiji gave them a glare, “what do you two want?”

one woman and one man. the woman was shorter than the man by at least five inches, but the man was much taller than keiji. he stared at them with an uninterested look. 

“we just wanted to see you two were doing,” said the woman kindly, but keiji just rolled his eyes.

“yeah, yeah, whatever.” and he turned back around, but the man grabbed his arm, opening his mouth to speak, but keiji gasps. he growls and jerks his arm out of the man’s grasp. “do not fucking touch me,” he furrows his eyebrows.

the man frowned, “keiji, please just hear us out—”

“no!” keiji exclaimed, and he stepped back, stepping out of the umbrella’s shadow, letting the rain pour on him again. “i moved out because you two have been neglectful of me for my entire life, and you proved my thoughts right when you never even called or checked up on me afterwards.”

the woman — his mother — stared at him, her jaw agape, but she couldn’t speak. the man — his father — was the same way, but his lips were thinned. they were both disappointed in how they had treated their own son, but nothing can change the past now.

“and i know i didn’t tell you about my diagnosis, but i’m glad i didn’t. because you would’ve just made it about yourselves.” keiji was berating them, he was finally getting it off his chest. “so fuck off, since that’s what you’ve been doing for the last twenty two years. so why change now?” 

keiji turned and stormed away from them, but as rage corrupted him, he felt relieved. for once. he finally told off his parents who had hurt him all his life, but that happiness would only last so long. 

he just wished he still had koutarou.

* * *

_and you know my bedroom needs_

keiji unlocked the door and turned the doorknob, pushing it open as he walked into the apartment. atsumu and kiyoomi had already headed back to their own apartment, but now keiji was alone in his apartment that belonged to him, and now only him.

but now, the apartment was so strangely quiet. there was no more laughter, it was just dark. even when he flipped the lights on, it still felt dark. it reminded keiji of all his pain, it was all coming back.

he felt so hollow and empty. his heart was broken and shattered into a million pieces, and his chest — it began to pain him so he clutched his chest, hissing and grunting, it felt like heartburn.

he fell to his knees, his clothes still wet from the rain, and he began to cry, choking up. he took his scarf off and threw it somewhere else in the room, and he covered his face with his hands, rubbing his eyes, wiping the streams of tears away. 

he felt so alone, so hurt.

koutarou was gone.

and so was keiji’s happiness.

* * *

_you could blast me and my secrets_

“i said i’m fine,”

_“are you sure?”_

keiji sighed as he held the phone up to his ear, walking around the kitchen in his studio apartment, which used to belong to his now deceased lover. 

he was on the phone with kiyoomi and atsumu, who were obviously very worried about the younger, but keiji knew it was just them wanting to help in any way they could. 

the apartment was still silent, but keiji was used to the silence now. it was so quiet, but keiji was okay with it now, because he grew to tolerate it. he was fine. 

keiji smiles, taking out a couple things from the cabinet before he places it at the bar counter. his bag of burgers and fries sat next to the plates on the counter. he takes the food out, leaning his head over to keep the phone in place between his ear and his shoulder. 

“yes, i’m doing fine,”

he heard kiyoomi groan on the other side of the phone, which was followed by a laugh from atsumu.

“okay, okay, we’ll talk to you later, akaashi.”

keiji smiles, “alright, guys. see ya!” 

he hangs up and places the phone in his back pocket, before he picks up the plates and heads over to sit on the floor in front of the bed, setting on plate on the floor next to him while the other sits in his lap.

“don’t forget to eat your food, koutarou.”

he was speaking to no one. because no one was there. because koutarou was gone. he was dead.

keiji wasn’t fine. he definitely wasn’t fine.

* * *

_but there’s probably just no need_

“and you’re okay now?”

keiji shrugs, letting out a quick sigh.

“i think so,” keiji said, “though i’m not sure.”

akaashi keiji, 29, was now a freelance writer who continued to live alone. he had friends, sure, and he still kept in touch with atsumu and kiyoomi — who were actually now married and adopting a boy soon.

in honor of the one those three lost, atsumu and kiyoomi won the olympics for him, a couple years after tooru oikawa, the ‘great king’, had won gold at the olympics as well. 

but keiji, he cheered from the sidelines. he was proud of those two, and he still is. they’re the only people he really needs now. he’s got them, but that’s not the reason why he was living where he was living.

the counselor, sitting in a chair across from keij, closed his notebook and gave keiji a smile. 

“keiji,” he began to say, “is he here?” he slightly tilts his head to the left, and keiji looks at him, grinning.

he looks over to a wall, the counselor watches with close observation, “yes sir,” keiji nods his head.

the counselor sighs, and he opens his notebook for a moment, writing something down. but he looks back up at his patient and smiles. “i hope to see you the same time tomorrow, right?”

keiji nods and he stands up, and so does the counselor. keiji bows to him, and the counselor does the same thing. keiji waves, “goodbye, dr. nakamoto.” then the young male left the room, closing the door behind him, and the counselor sighs. 

he sets his notebook on his desk, rubbing his forehead as he grunts. he grabs the phone and dials one of the doctor’s he knew, who had just recently began to work there at the facility. 

he knew he had to raise the doses for keiji’s medicine — his schizophrenia medication. he was diagnosed with schizophrenia a couple years after koutarou’s death, when the symptoms really began to show. unknown to keiji, but atsumu and kiyoomi are the ones who admitted him to the mental facility.

the one where keiji lives at now.

he raises the phone to his ear, waiting as it rings. when someone picks up, mr. nakamoto begins to speak. “hello, doctor sato, i’d like to talk to you about a former patient of yours — akaashi keiji.”

an hour passed, and they had given keiji the larger dose of his medication.

as keiji sat down on his bed in his room at the facility, he could feel koutarou’s presence in the room, his smell was so close, his touch was just inches away, his love — oh it was still there.

and it wasn’t going anywhere. and unfortunately, neither was keiji’s hallucination of his lover that has been dead for seven years now. he no longer missed him, as he saw him there with him every single day, even if no one else could see him. 

but that didn’t matter.

what mattered was that keiji was happy.

even if it wasn’t real. it was only a projection of fake reality. a ghost. his dead boyfriend. it didn’t matter.

“you know i love you right?” keiji spoke with a grin on his face, watching as his ghost, that looked so real to him, approached him. with a slow motion, koutarou placed his hand on keiji’s cheek — it was like keiji could really feel the palm of his hand against his cheek, and it made his cheeks heat up, as if it was the first time this had happened. 

koutarou just smiled at him — he wasn’t real.

“i love you more, keiji.”

but then, the medication began to set in, and suddenly koutarou began to fade away, dissolve into the air like the wind was blowing away dust. 

keiji’s smile fell, and his eyes began to tear up, so he sniffled, watching as his lover was fading away now for the second time. their time had ended again, but this time, keiji accepted it. 

soon, koutarou was gone once again. disappeared into thin air. but keiji smiled. he was happy. he was happy that maybe now he was getting better, realizing that he could change and focus on himself, rather than the ghost of his dead boyfriend. he was happy that he was able to have extra time with koutarou, happy that he was able to stay with him, even if it meant that he was sick. but that didn’t matter.

in the end, keiji was happy.

and that’s all that ever mattered to koutarou.


End file.
